


Trevorrow

by LilyCarmenBlack



Series: THE GHOST SERIES [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Anger, Anti-Muggle Content, Arranged Marriage, Bad Order of the Phoenix, Blood Loss, Blood Mages, Blood Magic, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Children, Crazy, Death Eaters, Duelling, Dumbledore's Army, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Ghosts, Godric's Hollow, Good Gellert Grindelwald, Good Slytherins, Graphic Description, Hogwarts Era, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, Inheritance, Insanity, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), Killing, Loss of Parent(s), Magic, Magical Accidents, Magical Inheritance, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Marriage, Marriage Contracts, Marriage of Convenience, Muggle Culture, Muggle Life, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Muggles, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Obscurials (Harry Potter), Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Parent Death, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Past Character Death, Past Infidelity, Professors, Protective Slytherins, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Purebloods (Harry Potter), Resurrection, Resurrection Stone, Seer Gellert Grindelwald, Sirius Black Lives, Slytherin, Spells & Enchantments, The Deathly Hallows, The Golden Trio, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Violence, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Widowed, Witch Hunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2020-06-26 16:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyCarmenBlack/pseuds/LilyCarmenBlack
Summary: She was a ghost, a phantom that floated through Hogwarts. With her name lost to those magical halls and dead for almost a century, the witch was alone. Murdered on the Astronomy Tower, Professor Blodwen Carter Trevorrow watches the students of today. That was, until something magical happens, and suddenly she's breathing, her hands turned to flesh and — oh fuck — she was alive!





	1. The End of Time or a New Beginning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was a ghost, a phantom that floated through Hogwarts. With her name lost to those magical halls and dead for almost a century, the witch was alone. Murdered on the Astronomy Tower, Professor Blodwen Carter Trevorrow watches the students of today. That was, until something magical happens, and suddenly she's breathing, her hands turned to flesh and - oh fuck - she was alive!

**_Disclaimer: I only own Blodwen Trevorrow, her family and her story. Everything else belongs to J. K. Rowling._ **

* * *

**_Chapter One_ **

**_The End of Time or a New Beginning?_ **

Blodwen Trevorrow sat on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, her legs swinging back and forth like a child, and every day, she was pushed. The wind would brush through her, pulling at skirts and cotton petticoats, tears flying as her fear caught up, black hair unravelling and for a split second, Blodwen would swear she was flying. And yet, although she would smash against the cobbled ground, blood pooling as her ribs shattered, neck twisting as she lay, the students who sat unknowingly around her still gossiped, and kissed, never once knowing they were flirting beside a ghost.

For almost a hundred years, at a little bit past midnight, Professor Blodwen Trevorrow would feel a sharp pain in-between her shoulder blades, the heeled shoe of her husband's young mistress digging into her skin. And then she was falling. No matter how many times she tried to stop, her ghostly form would find itself atop the Astronomy Tower, and she'd die. No one saw her, not even her own kind, and as Blodwen picked herself up, cracking bones and wiping the blood from her nose, she'd sigh.

Another fall.

Over the years, Blodwen had taken it upon herself to protect the students of Hogwarts, and although she could never touch them, she had become part of the castle's defensive system. Blodwen guided students to classes with a path of torches and cold wind and pushed the staircases into place before a child could fall. She could never understand why they never noticed her, no matter how loud she screamed. Nor could she fathom why her name didn't appear on the Marauder's Map, (and she'd spent a long time trying to figure that one out) when other ghosts such as Nearly Headless Nick or Helena Ravenclaw were.

Muggleborns no longer quivered when she turned abruptly around the corner, the Halfbloods walked right through her leaving Blodwen to shudder in pain, and the Purebloods had never heard of her. Teachers muttered between themselves and Hogwarts carried on as she had always done. By the time the wizard once known as Tom Marvel Riddle eventually entered Hogwarts, the rumour that a Dulling Professor had thrown herself off the Astronomy Tower had long faded.

That night, however, a few hours before Albus Dumbledore was murdered, Blodwen sat in the Room of Requirement. It had become a strange comfort for her, a place which surprisingly still granted requests for even ghosts. That evening as she lay on a chez-long, the Mirror Erised glimmered in the darkly lit room; beyond the glass, her family surrounded her.

Her daughter sat beside her in that mirrored world, young and childlike, with Blodwen's colouring and her husband's sharp features. Eudora clutched at her mother. Blodwen had only seen her daughter twice. Once when she was a babe, and second when a sixteen-year-old Eudora had climbed to the top of the Astronomy Tower and cursed her mother until her voice grew horse. In the mirror, however, instead of the angry tears and shouting voice, Eudora was smiling, grin almost glowing.

Behind them, also wearing black, and with his hand on Blodwen's shoulder, stood Arcturus Black II. Grey eyes shining, and with streaks of grey running through his dark hair, the image of Blodwen's husband was taken from the eulogy portrait she'd once seen in the Daily Prophet. He smiled, seventy-something, and still incredibly handsome. Matching silver rings danced on the couple's right hands.

As the youngest son of Phineas Nigellus and Ursula Flint, Arcturus had inherited enough to see him comfortable in a world that was slowly putting away the high-status values of a world run by the Sacred-Twenty Eight. Despite their inheritances, Arcturus and Blodwen had both held high paid jobs, even though they never needed to. Arcturus once held a seat on the Wizagmot, and she was a teacher. Although her surname wasn't on the official register of Cantankerus Nott's, Pure-Blood Directory, the Trevorrows were almost as rich as the Blacks, with a magical ancestry that extended back to Merlin himself. It was practically insane for their parents not to choose the match.

Arcturus leaned down, pressing invisible lips to the witch's neck, and she closed her eyes. Beyond the Mirror, the Room of Requirement blurred, Blodwen's request shifting as her great-something nephew walked into the room. Blodwen sighed as she opened her eyes, the chair disappearing so that she had to float. That was one problem with the room; the human's desires were always first.

Draco Lucius Malfoy had appeared on the Black Tapestry seventeen years ago. Blond like both his parents and sharing features with the rest of the Black Family, most people were surprised, and then suspicious when they discovered his lineage. However, he had changed in the months since Blodwen had last seen him. Although tall, Draco seems to curl into himself, his once muscular phase sickly thin, and dark shadows curled under his grey eyes. As he padded across the room, polished shoes, the only noise that rose between him and the ghost, Blodwen followed behind him. Floating behind her husband's brother's descendants, Blodwen navigated alongside Draco.

The Room had transformed, boxes piled in high stacks around them, along with broken treasures and lost things. It broke Blodwen's heart whenever Draco conjured this room, for it pained her to see his forced desire; to understand what he had to do. The first time Blodwen and seen the Vanishing Cabinet materialise, the ghost-witch and questioned why such a terrible object was in Hogwarts. Once she'd seen Draco restore it, her eyes had risen, before turning to a firm scowl as he slipped off his jacket, the Dark Mark shining on sweaty skin. The damn idiot.

But this evening, something was different.

Draco paused before he reached the Vanishing Cabinet, fingers brushing over the red blanket that covered it as if wondering whether it was right to open it. His left hand fiddled with a pocket watch, and he glanced down at it, checking the time. Blodwen wished she could check her own, but the clock was perfectly stuck at eleven-fifty-nine; the exact time she'd smashed on the Astronomy Tower courtyard.

Taking a deep, vanquished breath, Draco put his pocket watch into his waistcoat pocket and pulled off the blanket. The fabric caught on the handle as it fell, curving off the unusual design, before pooling on the blood in a red pile. The Vanishing Cabinet stood in all it's carved-wood glory, pointed and triangular it rose above Draco and Blodwen like a giant. The Cabinet ticked as if an alarm clock lay inside before slowly the handles opened, and black mist poured out.

Blodwen nervously took a step back, as Bellatrix Lestrange stepped out. As dark haired as Eudora but with Arcturus' brother's hungry eyes, Madam Lestrange was crazy incarnate. The witch looked briefly at her nephew, surveying him, her wand curving up to the base of her neck, before she stepped to the side, allowing the rest of the Death Eaters to follow through. Next came Greyback, his scarred face lighting up with hungry delight when he spotted Draco. If Blodwen could, she would have snatched up Draco and apparated as far away as she could, but alas, she was a ghost, and as other masked men and women entered the room, wands sharp, Blodwen shook.

There weren't many times when Blodwen attended the Sorting Ceremony, mostly because it brought her great sadness to see too many students fighting with each other. However, last year the Hat had warned the school, told them all that something was about to happen, and now his song ringing in her ears.

_**For our Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes.** _

It seemed those foes had arrived; the Hat had been right.

Beside her Draco turned, rushing out the Room of Requirement, Bellatrix and her Death Eaters following closely. Blodwen flew, chest tight as her throat sized and she choked. Why did she have to be dead when people needed her!

Blodwen shot out of the Room of Requirement like a bullet, zooming past portraits, her undead heart bounding through broken ribs and pierced lungs. Her body shook as she flew, quivering with magical energy, wind flowing through thick hair. She had to find someone! Anyone!

She stopped short when she saw Professor McGonagall, and immediately, the ghost flew over to the Transfiguration Teacher. But the witch never saw her, and even with Blodwen screaming in the woman's ear, Minerva kept walking. It was only when a Death Eater with dark red hair stopped short in a doorway near the Professor did Minerva McGonagall stopped short.

"Oh Merlin," the Professor said.

For a second, Blodwen wondered if she'd caught the woman's attention, and then the spells were let loose, bright blue curses lighting the air as the two began to duel. Blodwen cursed, biting on her tongue, as McGonagall spun and ducked, transfiguring stone statues into growling black dogs without a single word. They shuddered as stone turned to flesh, long vicious snouts armed with deadly fangs that ripped through the Death Eater's robes as they charged. It gave McGonagall just enough time to sprint down the hall, her wand pressed directly next to her throat, and an invisible ghost right behind her.

The next words that McGonagall uttered were loud and brilliant, her voice echoing off every slap of the castle, running down halls and corridors and was long enough to wake up every student and professor in the building.

"Attention everyone!" the witch gasped, tripping over stones as she sprinted into the Main Courtyard, and up a flight of stairs. "This is Professor McGonagall! Hogwarts is under attack! I repeat, Hogwarts is under attack! Protego!"

She stopped short, violently flicking up her wand arm, creating a shield, as she met several Death Eaters, she cried and spells still reverberating around the school. Pulling herself close to the wall, and with spells still peppering the blue shield, McGonagall continued her order, breath heavy.

"Professors, Guards! Arm yourselves! Spread out, keep the students safe," the Transfiguration Professor ducked, sending a cutting curse in the direction of the one of the Death Eaters, slicing his head off, before turning to the other.

There was a slight struggle, and then a spine chilling scream as roots began to grow around the Death Eater's feet, tangling her up. Blodwen could only watch with fascination and horror as the Death Eater was swallowed up in a tree. McGonagall winced, taking hard breaths. She understood that the students had heard the screams and beheading too.

"Students," McGonagall said, voice hardening as she stepped over the decapitated man, striding sharply as the portraits scattered, words on their lips, "stay where you are! Keep together and if necessary, protect each other! I give you all permission to blow these Death Eaters up! Stay safe."

As she released the spell, Blodwen saw the witch smile. A strand of hair had fallen from Minerva's tightly wound bun, and the witch rolled her eyes as she tucked it behind her ear. It was time for war.

Before Blodwen could decide or figure out a way to help Minerva, something tugged on her gut. She froze.

No. Not now! Anything but now!

It was eleven-fifty, and her time was out.

Suddenly Blodwen was atop the Astronomy Tower, materialising just as a spell was released. The emerald green light shot up into the air, stopping just above the Astronomy Tower's Star-Vane. The metal star spun as the spell exploded, transforming into a humongous skull. A green-skinned serpent slid it's way out of the skull's mouth, the image blazing against the stars. In front, Draco's pale face was illuminated in the light; he looked scared.

Blodwen's stomach dropped as she stared at the Dark Mark. That did not look good. There were at least ten minutes before she died, not enough time to get anyone, (not that they would see her), but maybe long enough to do something. Shaking her head, Blodwen tried to take out her wand, cursing only when she realised she was stuck fast.

Damn her death!

As the Death Eaters ran away, joining in the chaos that was only just beginning, Draco hid. Two shadowy figures both on brooms appeared from the gloom. As they drew closer, Blodwen's eyes widened. The figure on the left was a boy she'd seen vaguely over the years, his face recognisable by the number of times she'd hung around his father and his merry gang of bullies. Harry Potter reached out, steadying the second broom as they landed on the Astronomy tower.

Even before the touched down, the second man was crossing the crenellated ramparts, feet hard against the marble floor. Blodwen's mouth opened as the Dark Mark's light fell on his form. It was Albus. The years had not been kind to the once red-headed man. Wrinkled and with long white hair, Blodwen hadn't ever seen the man look so old. He was stooped slightly, breathing heavily, and as he surveyed the room, his eyes paused on her for just a second. Blodwen blinked, and then Albus was moving on.

Had she just imagined that?

"What does it mean?" Harry Potter, asked, the Dark Mark's light reflecting in his glasses as he looked at it."Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been — Professor?"

His face paled, turning to Albus, a careful hand reaching out to the Professor. Albus drew away, clutching a hand to his chest, as he looked Harry Potter directly in the eye.

"Go and wake Severus," Albus demanded clearly. "Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else, and do not remove your cloak. I shall wait here."

"But—" Harry Potter protested, but Albus held a hand.

"You swore to obey me, Harry — go!"

The boy paused, but eventually, he was hurrying down the spiral staircase and out of sight. As the sound of his footsteps retreated, Blodwen turned to look at Albus. The wizard was now standing right where she was about to fall; his eyes settled on the shadows behind Blodwen. He raised his wand to defend himself, when —

"Expelliarmus!"

The door slammed open, as Albus' wand flew over the edge of the rampart, falling out of site, most likely breaking on its way down. Albus glared as someone stumbled into the room.

"Good evening, Draco."

Blodwen wished she could turn. She struggled, desperately trying to pull herself against invisible bonds, hoping she could turn around and grab her great-nephew and take him away. Draco stepped forward. He checked, making sure that they were alone, before spotting the second broom.

"Who else is here?"

His voice was quiet as if afraid the other Death Eaters were near,

"A question I might ask you," Albus asked, a small smile on his lips. "Or are you acting alone?"

Draco's eyes flashed back to Albus, and he gulped.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "I've got back up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

His voice would have sounded powerful if he wasn't so scared.

"Well, well," said Albus, in that annoying-unimpressed tone that he once expressed when talking about his younger sister, Ariana."Very good, indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

"Yeah," said Draco, eyes sliding to the door, "Right under your nose, and you never realised!"

Blodwen closed her eyes. She had noticed; noticed and done nothing!

"Ingenious," Albus said, still in that unimpressed tone. "Yet, forgive me. Where are they now? You seem unsupported."

Draco sniffed, shrugging.

"They met some of your guards," he explained. "They're having a fight down below. They won't be long. I came on ahead. I — I've got a job to do."

Albus smiled softly, nodding, understanding.

"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,"

Draco could only start at Albus, his eyes narrowed. Albus simply smiled.

"Draco, Draco," he breathed, looking at Draco for the first time, as what he was; a boy. "You are not a killer."

Draco's fists clenched, jaw taut.

"How do you know?" he snapped, skin flushing red under the green. "You don't know what I'm capable of! You don't know what I've done!"

Albus raised his eyes, cocking his head slightly.

"Oh yes, I do," he said matter-of-factly. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts. So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it."

"It has been in it!" Draco snapped, almost shaking. "I've been working on it all year, and tonight—"

Somewhere, far below, someone shrieked. Blodwen closed her eyes, as the scream reverberated, and the taste of Death coated her mouth. A student had died.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight," Albus said, not understanding the situation. "But you were saying - yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible. How did you do it?"

Draco, on the other hand, wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring at the door, frozen to the spot, just like Blodwen.

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," Albus goaded, trying to get a reaction. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realised, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too. And after all, you don't really need help. I have no wand at the moment. I cannot defend myself."

Draco slowly turned around, staring at the Headmaster. Blodwen stared too: Albus wanted to die?

"I see," Albus' expression softened. "You are afraid to act until they join you."

"I'm not afraid!" Draco snarled, and yet he did not move a muscle. "It's you who should be scared!"

Albus sighed.

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe. So tell me, while we wait for your friends, how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Draco closed his eyes, face a soft green that had nothing to do with the Dark Mark hanging above his head. He slumped once, breathing in the cold air before his eyes snapped back open. He pointed his wand at Albus.

"I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years," he breathed, admitting his wrongs, as if in Confession. "The one Montague got lost in last year."

Recognition lit up in Albus' eyes, and he nodded.

"Aaaah. That was clever. There is a pair, I take it?"

Draco nodded, lips pursed.

"In Borgin and Burkes, and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop as if the cabinet was travelling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him,"

Draco's voice was becoming quicker and quicker, rushing, and yet, not letting himself miss anything.

"In the end, he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realised what it meant — even Borgin didn't know — I was the one who realised there could be a way into Hogwarts through the cabinets if I fixed the broken one."

"Very good," Albus praised. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you. A clever plan, a very clever plan and, as you say, right under my nose."

"Yeah," Draco said again, quivering, still looking ill. "Yeah, it was!"

"But there were times," Albus continued, "weren't there when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink."

Draco winced, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, a fire burned.

"Yeah, well, you still didn't realise who was behind that stuff, did you?"

Draco hissed, as Albus leaned against the rampart. Albus looked exhausted, sweat beading down his face.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Albus grunted, fingers gripping the gold. "I was sure it was you.

"Why didn't you stop me, then?" Draco demanded, voice broken, childlike.

"I tried, Draco," Albus said, "Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders—"

"He hasn't been doing your orders; he promised my mother—"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but—"

"He's a double agent, you stupid old man; he isn't working for you, you just think he is!" Draco spat.

Albus smiled, shaking his head.

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape—"

Draco snorted, swearing. Blodwen was suddenly, and creepy reminded of her husband when he did that.

"Well, you're losing your grip, then! He's been offering me plenty of help — wanting all the glory for himself — wanting a bit of the action — 'What are you doing?' 'Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything—' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow, and it'll all be over, and he won't be the Dark Lord's favourite anymore, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"

Albus looked over Draco as if he were a very small puppy.

"Very gratifying, We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course," he agreed, eyes suddenly hardening. "But you must have had an accomplice, all the same, someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the — the — aaaah—"

Albus closed his eyes, nodding. Although to Blodwen, it looked as though all the Headmaster wanted was curl up in a ball and go to sleep.

"—of course, Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

Draco paused, looking at the ground, and then he said,

"Got there, at last, have you?"

His voice was trembling, despite his jeer. He was scared, and it only grew as another yell rang around the Astronomy Tower. Draco's head snapped back to the door, as Albus carried on.

"So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead well, naturally, Rosmerta was able to poison it for you before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing that it was to be my Christmas present. Yes, very neat, very neat. Poor Mr Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's. Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."

"Enchanted coins," Draco said as if he were under Veritaserum.

His hands shook as he spoke.

"I had one, and she had the other, and I could send her messages—"

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" Albus asked as he slipped further down.

Draco nodded

"Yeah, I got the idea from them. I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger as well; I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognising potions."

His voice shook suddenly on the word 'Mudlood' as if quietening his right to use it.

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," Albus snapped, suddenly looked murderous.

Blodwen understood why; the last time he'd said that his sister had died. Draco laughed, and yet it was full of fear.

"You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"

"Yes, I do," Albus said harshly. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenceless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted."

Draco paused, breathing still.

"Now, about tonight," Albus went on, "I am a little puzzled about how it happened. You knew that I had left the school? But of course, Rosmerta saw me leaving; she tipped you off using your ingenious coins, I'm sure."

"That's right," said Draco quietly. "But she said you were just going for a drink; you'd be back."

Albus paused and frowned.

"Well, I certainly did have a drink, and I came back after a fashion," Albus sighed. "So you decided to spring a trap for me?"

"We decided to put the Dark Mark over the tower and get you to hurry up here, to see who'd been killed," Malfoy said. "And it worked!"

"Well, yes and no," Albus raised a hand, looking down at one of his rings as it stone in the green light. "But am I to take it, then that nobody has been murdered?"

"Someone's dead," Draco said, his sock recovering quickly as Albus' gaze landed on him. "One of your people — I don't know who, it was dark. I stepped over the body. I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back; only your Phoenix lot got in the way."

"Yes, they do that," said Albus, sounding bored.

More bangs, more screams. Albus looked at Draco directly in the eye.

"There is little time, one way or another," he said. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

Draco turned red, eyes wide.

"My options!" Draco cried, shaking his head. "I'm standing here with a wand — I'm about to kill you—"

Albus chuckled suddenly.

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me; you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

Draco's face paled.

"I haven't got any options!" He shouted. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

The desperation that clung to Draco's words stung Blodwen's, broken heart. Oh, the poor boy.

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," Albus said softly. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected you."

Draco hissed, wincing at the name of his Dark Lord.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you," Albus explained, ignoring Draco's reaction. "But now, at last, we can speak plainly to each other. No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived. I can help you, Draco. You remind me of another boy I once met."

"No, you can't," said Draco weakly, his voice painfully quiet, wand shaking so bad, his other hand to grip it. "Nobody can. He told me to do it, or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

Albus sighed.

"Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely then you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban. When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco, you are not a killer."

Draco stared at Albus, eyes widening.

"But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here, and you're in my power. I'm the one with the wand. You're at my mercy."

"No, Draco. It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."

For a second time, Albus' eyes settled on Blodwen, and then he looked back at Draco. Blodwen felt her feet move by themselves. It was time.

"You know, someone died here long before you were born — an old friend of mine. We went to school together. And she was awfully bright." Albus stated. "She was a Professor here, too — the Dulling Master."

Blodwen's heart stopped as she sat down, her legs moving by themselves. She trembled next to Albus, her hands shaking. Her death was close. She sat, and before Albus could continue, the door opened, and four sets of footsteps burst into the room. Blodwen's eyes strained as she struggled to see who they were, but all she could see was the pale face of Draco.

"Dumbledore cornered!" a voice crowed. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

Albus sighed, smiling softly and addressing the room of Death Eaters.

"Good evening, Amycus," said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. "And you've brought Alecto too. Charming."

"Think your little jokes'll help you on your deathbed then?" Amycus' sister jeered.

"Jokes?" Albus replied, eyebrows raised. "No, no, these are manners. I was simply reminding Mr Malfoy here of a story I once heard—"

"Do it," another voice interrupted.

Blodwen winced. She could almost smell the wolf, the monster that lingered in an even monstrous man.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Albus, as if he couldn't quite see him.

"That's right," Fenrir laughed. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

Albus' lips pursed.

"No, I cannot say that I am."

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore," Fenrir said, and Blodwen could taste the blood that ran down his lips.

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now?" Albus said, voice filled with disgust. "This is most unusual. You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right," said Fenrir Greyback. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Albus coldly. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live."

Draco's eyes were wide as he looked at Fenrir;

"I didn't," the boy said, fearful "I didn't know he was going to come—"

Fenrir laughed, a deep, ugly sound.

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore! Not when there are throats to be ripped out. Delicious, delicious..." Blodwen retched; he was disgusting. "I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

"No," said a fourth Death Eater. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."

Draco looked terrified, and Blodwen reached out, fingering Albus' hand as he sat down next to her, face pale.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said Amycus, his sister giggling beside him. "Look at him — what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

Dumbledore readied his excellent hand, shrugging.

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus. Old age, in short. One day, perhaps, it will happen to you - if you are lucky."

"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" Amycus yelled. "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on, Draco, do it!"

And then suddenly:

"They've blocked the stairs — Reducto! REDUCTO!"

Blodwen grinned: the Cavalry had arrived!

"Now, Draco, quickly!" Amycus hissed, angrily.

Draco's didn't move.

"I'll do it," snarled Fenrir, and Blodwen caught sight of the nasty, werewolf, his claws reaching up to touch Albus' face.

Blodwen wanted to stream.

"I said no!" shouted Amycus; there was a flash, and Fenrir staggered back.

"Draco, do it or stand aside, so one of us—" Alecto screeched.

BANG!

The doors opened, and a second later, the Potions Master was striding by. In the eighty-something years since her death, Hogwarts and gained and lost many a talented Potioneer, but none as powerful nor capable as Severus Tobias Snape. The dark haired man strode into the room as Amycus said:

"We've got a problem, Snape, the boy, doesn't seem able —"

"Severus..."

At first, Blodwen didn't realise it was Albus until he repeated the man's name. The portioner paused, his feet softening on the marble. Behind her, Blodwen heard Draco suddenly struggling, and then Severus was beside her, his gaze set hard on Albus. Something passed between them, a silent conversation that was summed up with Albus whispering:

"Severus...please..."

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Albus Dumbledore.

"ALBUS!"

Suddenly she was moving, breaking through the invisible barrier that her Death had created, and was launching herself towards the man. The spell rang in the air, Severus voice loud as she wrapped her arms tightly around Albus, her head pressed firmly in her shoulder. The green passed through her. For that split second, somewhere between life and death, Albus' eyes widened. His lips parting as those familiar blue eyes slid down to stare at her. His grip tightened, as Death took his hand, his fingers pressing against her waist, as if not quite believing she was there.

"Blodwen?"

And then he was falling through her, rag-like and dead; so very dead. For a beat, Blodwen started down at the man; her voice caught in her throat. A scream rose, and she collapsed against the marble, her nails digging into flesh, tears rolling, mingling with blood, as Albus Dumbledore fell below clouds and out of sight.

Later, when asked, Blodwen would put everything down luck; pure goddamn luck. Her magic erupted, caused by what, she would not know, and in an instant, she broke out of the in-between, grasping for Life. Suddenly she was solidifying, her blood colouring her pale skin to deep olive, as her bones clicked back in place. She heard the Death Eaters stumbling back, gasping, muttering, as her screams broke into reality, her grief mingling with pain as her body fixed itself.

Light exploded from the middle of her chest, golden and bright. It broke through the Dark Mark, scattering it into disarray — and then she was standing, broken wand snapping back into place. She extended it, fifteen inches of stiff Walnut feeling firm in her hand. Her hair, which had been tangled and bloodstained flew around her, clean and shining, as the magical power flooded back. Her clothes suddenly real, the thick tweed and linen chemise comforting against her skin, and as her feet dropped onto the marble floor, dragon-hide shoes clipped softly. Blodwen Trevorrow stared at the place where Albus Dumbledore had once been, her breath cold.

It was as her pocket watch clicked back into her place, her whale-bone corset smoothing itself out, that she realised her predicament. She breathed deep, air filling her lungs. She was alive — and her oldest friend was dead.

"Oh, fuck!"

* * *

**Dear Readers,**

**Welcome to "Trevorrow". I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry, I've been so long, this summer's been nuts. I have edited this slightly since first publishing, as I realised I had made numerous mistakes and errors that had to be resolved. I hope you stick around for the next chapter, and I look forward to hearing your comments in the review section down below.**

**From**

**Lily**


	2. Ties Unbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was a ghost, a phantom that floated through Hogwarts. With her name lost to those magical halls and dead for almost a century, the witch was alone. Murdered on the Astronomy Tower, Professor Blodwen Carter Trevorrow watches the students of today. That was, until something magical happens, and suddenly she's breathing, her hands turned to flesh and - oh fuck - she was alive!

**Disclaimer: I only own Blodwen Trevorrow, her family and her story. Everything else belongs to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Ties Unbound**

For the first time in almost a century, the wind ripped through her. It blew around Blodwen, causing gooseflesh to rise across her neck, arms and back, and even with the wool, and cotton that swaddled her body, the witch shuddered. It was icy, and strong, bringing forth a breath and a sudden tremor of morbid humour that death never could. In the end, it was the wind that saved her. 

Blodwen spun, pulling her Inverness Coat around herself, the Knockback Jinx absorbing into the tweed and tiny stitched in runes before she could fall off the Astronomy Tower. Her wand was out before the Death Eaters would arm themselves, and spells zipped and zapped, coming left, right and centre as Blodwen ploughed through them. Some hung in the air, corpses strung up by invisible nooses, while others lay, intestines spread across the marble floor. A set of bloody footprints trailed through the curdling red, Blodwen's short heels clipping softly as she walked.

In the madness, Severus Snape, Bellatrix and a couple of other Death Eaters managed to sneak away, while Draco was left to press himself into the folds of a tightly woven tapestry. Although a part of Blodwen longed to hunt them down and slice them all into itty-bitty pieces, it was the wizard who sworn who'd caught her attention. He hung around his noose, hands pulling himself up so that he could breathe. Older then the rest of the Death Eaters, blonde-white hair fell around chiselled cheekbones, and as Blodwen picked up his fallen wand, he began to gasp. It seemed, that no matter the time, and while a hundred years had passed between them, Blodwen Trevorrow could recognise Corbin Yaxley anywhere.

Blue-grey eyes widened as the ex-Duelling Professor reached up, nails biting into flesh as she pulled him close. He kicked, booted feet slamming into Blodwen's shoulder. She winced, nostrils flaring, and drew close, her black-brown eyes boring into his own, studying Yaxley with a quiet reserve. Her hand tightened, and Yaxley grunted, swaying as his blood rose to his skin, and before he could kick her again, Blodwen grew him close for an unwanted kiss.

Memories flew past, tangling up in Blodwen's mind, and exploding behind her like a bullet. She moved through Yaxley's mind, shifting through unimportant thoughts and desires, opening every door and letting the floodgates open until his mind was hers. He struggled, twisting and turning beneath her hold, as his deepest secrets, and darkest desires spilt into her hands. She saw it all, every murder, every bribe and curse, everything that had happened in the past hundred years, from Gellert Grindelwald's fall to Tom Riddle's rise, and everything in between. It was only when his screams became a reality when Blodwen opened up the final door, did the Dueller finally step back. His magic burned through her like a hot flush, his mind swallowed up in her own. She tasted blood, ancient and dark — and so like her own. 

Yaxley fell, the invisible rope cutting so that he crashed on the marble at Blodwen's feet. He was shuddering, but whether from fear or hatred, Blodwen didn't care. Yaxley breathed through his nose, gasping, clutching his bruised and bloodied lips. When he looked up, a fire lingered in his eyes.

"What a disappointing man you've become," Blodwen sneered. "My finest pupil following the orders of a bastard half-blood. Even Gellert had more tact."

The fire burned brighter, deadlier, and somehow, Yaxley sat up. His back was shuddering under strain, hair falling around his cheeks, smearing blood and sweat. Eventually, he spat, a bloody, gob of saliva that dribbled down his chin.

"Professor _Trevorrow_ ,"

Venom touched his words, hardening on _'Professor'_ , and turning vile on _'Trevorrow'_ , that for a second, Blodwen could see the child she'd taught. So that hared was still there then.

"It's Professor Black, Yaxley," Blodwen corrected, snapping his wand and throwing it at his feet. "Or did your sister take that from me to?"

For a few seconds, Yaxley started at his wand, as if willing it to mend itself, before he returned his gaze. A tiny grin slid across his ruined lips, cracking, as more blood fell.

"Lysandra didn't steal anything," he hissed. "She saved you."

Blodwen rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself. But it was an empty laugh, one filled with malice and a hollow hatred that could never be resolved.

"Saved me?" she finally gasped. "Saved me! That bitch pushed me."

Her hand pointed to the edge, to where Albus had fallen moments before. Yaxley's eyes slid to the tower's edge, to the gold, before flicking back to Blodwen.

"Lysandra still saved you," Yaxley's smirk tutted to a shit-eating grin. "It was, after all, only a matter of time before Arcturus Black left you fo—"

Before he could finish, the rope wrapped itself around his torso, pulling him up so that he spun. Yaxley shirked as it grew tighter, Blodwen's expression dark, and deadly. To her left, Draco moved out of the shadows, wand extended and burning silver. The spell sliced passed Blodwen, striking the pillar behind her head, causing the ancient marble to shatter, dust clouds peppering her skin. A bright blue light erupted around the witch, and before Draco could do the same, before the dust could settled, Blodwen's great-great-nephew was tied down with invisible bonds.

Yaxley was laughing now; a wild, shrieking laugh that put Bellatrix's cackle to shame. Below, the air around the Castle shuddered, breathing darkly as the war raged on, spells and hexes exploding across the battlefield. In a way, Blodwen realised, they were safe, trapped in a bubble of hatred and laughter. Their own little version of hell. Turning back to Yaxley, Blodwen grabbed his shoulder, pulling him by his robes, so that she was neck and neck. For a brief second, Yaxley froze, eyes wide as he waited for Blodwen to rip apart his mind — and then he stilled, and smiled.

"You can't kill me," he crowed, shaking his head. "Just as you couldn't kill my sister! Even when she was fucking your husb—"

Yaxley exploded. Blood erupted, splattering Blodwen, and Draco, coating the corpses around in the red. Particles of Yaxley stuck to the ceiling, smearing the stars and tapestries with bits of skin and hair. Blodwen sighed and closed her eyes. That temper of hers.

Something sharp sliced through her arm and Blodwen spun around so quickly she thought her corset would snap. With his invisibility cloak falling around his shoulders, his black hair sticking up all over the place, the bloody-boy-who-lived never looked so much like Wen. For a brief second, Blodwen was transported back, back to a time when everything was cheery and kind, to the Hogwarts she knew, when three of the Trevorrow siblings still lived, and then Blodwen looked back at the Wen-look-alike, and everything shattered. Avada-kadarvra coloured eyes flickered between Blodwen and what remained of Yaxley, and if wondering whether it was alright to blow up a woman who'd just exploded a Death Eater. For the first time in a long while, Blodwen didn't know what to do. Eventually, the witch smiled and wiped the blood off her face.

"Good evening, Henry,"

The Golden Boy frowned, and suddenly all remnants of Wen were gone; he had a scowl that was all Monty. Blodwen blew away a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. If he started shouting, then she might just cry, for a part of her doubted she could keep it together if Stoker came out too.

"My name is Harry,"

"But your Christian name is Henry," the witch corrected. "I should know I used to date your great-grandfather. He used to threaten me, and then later Wen, Monty, and James, with magical expulsion if they didn't name someone after him."

She paused, looking him up and down.

"You should be proud, boy; Henry Potter was a rather talented wizard."

"How come I've never heard of him; and I'm not religious."

"Of course not, if you where the Third Goddess would probably come down and give you a firm talking too." Harry Potter raised an eyebrow at that, but Blodwen carried on. "As to why you haven't heard of Henry: I have no idea. Why don't you ask your cousin."

She sat down in the middle of the blood and tipped her head back. She closed her eyes, as a weight settled into her bones, making her back hurt, and her magic sing.

"My cousin?"

A groan left Blodwen's lips, and before Harry could move, she released the spell on Draco. The Great-Grandson of Cygnus Black stood up and pointed his wand directly at Harry.

"Henry, meet your second or third something removed cousin on your great-grandmother's side — depending on which way you look — Draconis Lucius Malfoy." Blodwen waved her hands around, pointing at her two great-great nephews with a mild distain. "Draconis, meet Henry James Potter."

They blinked, and in a second, spells flickered between the two. Before they could touch their intended target, however, the two were knocked over, one avada-kadarvra and a crucio smashing into pillars behind.

"Before you blow each other to smithereens," Blodwen interjected, opening her eyes and looking between the two teenagers. "Remember we are in the middle of a war, so unless you both want to die, wrap this nonsense up — or I'll clobber you,"

"You can't do that," Draco interjected, eyes widening, as Harry's mouth opened.

"Yeah," the Gryffindor said. "That's illegal,"

Blodwen gave them both a thin look, her lips deathly tight.

"I have just come back to life after almost a hundred years of repeatedly jumping off this tower." Blodwen said, deadpan. "Don't think for one single second that I don't know my way around a thumping hex,"

Their faces paled, and they both nodded.

"Right, now that's cleared up, shall we go hunt some Death Eaters?"

"But, Malf—"

"Henry," Blodwen warned, voice icy sharp. "Pull your head out of your prejudices for once second and shut up. Sometimes, people have no choice what side of this war they get to choose."

There was a beat and then: "Draconis!"

The smile that had risen to Draco's lips immediately fell.

"Stop being a prick; it's most unseemly. You'll need to grow a backbone if you wish to survive — Violetta would be incredibly disappointed with you right now."

His mouth dropped open as Blodwen stood up. She frowned, foot scraping back the sticky blood, the irony taste that lingered in the air, and sniffed. She'd need a bath by the end of this.

"Who are you?"

A small smile rose to Blodwen's lips at her nephews' expressions, the almost identical reaction surprising among their faces.

"I'm Blodwen Black, your Great-Great Aunt," she scowled, looking down at the battle, and the flashing spells. "Now, can we please find those ruddy Death Eaters. I have a bone to pick with them."

The journey down the Astronomy Tower's steps was a mixture of excitement and downright terror. Draco and Harry were a step behind their Great-Great Aunt, as she commanded the battle, slicing down Death Eaters and leaving her nephews to pick up the pieces. By the time they reached the end of the spiral staircase, Harry's anger had returned, and he was churning ahead. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Blodwen was screaming at Euphemia's troublesome intent that had most defiantly been passed along to her grandson.

Blodwen grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck, pulling the sixteen-year-old back as he charged after Severus Snape. But before Blodwen could turn him into a rabbit, or any other animal she could think of in that particular moment, something heavy, and hairy lunched for her. She let go of Harry, her arms rising to cover her face, as the half-transformed monster tried to tear at her throat. However, her clothes were too strong, the magic too old for him to ever get into it.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Fenrir Greyback collapsed onto of her, crushing Blodwen so that her usually comfortable corset suddenly felt uncomfortable. She winched, whining for air; damn that beast. Just as she was about to blackout, Harry pushed the monster of her.

"Thank you, Henry," she gasped.

But it wasn't over. Amycus was shooting crucio after crucio at Draco.

"Crucio — Crucio — you can't dance forever, blood-traitor!"

Having lived with numerous Death Eaters and various nutty family members for the past year, Draco was adept at avoiding them, however, not for long. With Harry's help, Blodwen stood, wand extended. But before she could help her nephew, Harry raised his wand.

"Impedimenta!" yelled Harry.

SLAMB!

Amycus crashed into the opposite wall, his head twisting awfully. Beside Blodwen, Harry shuddered, as Draco stumbled back, wide-eyed and gasping. A second later, Professor McGonagall, and several others rounded the corner. Blodwen ducked, pulling her nephews down with her, as a ricochet of curses exploded around them. Above, several curses shattered a stain-glass window of the Four Founders/ The pink-haired witch avoided her spells, stepping over the glass before twisting her wand sharply and the Death Eater went down.

"Harry," a girl's voice said, and Blodwen turned to find a pretty red-haired girl staring at the three, "where did you come from?"

Harry ignored her, and before Blodwen of Draco could pull back, he once again charged after Severus Snape.

"Henry!" Blodwen bellowed and snatched up Draco's hand.

But before the two could charge after Harry, another Death Eater appeared in front. It was Alecto, and she'd been fighting Mcgonagall, a task that was far beyond the Death Eater's magical ability. She spotted the two as she ran passed, her hands over her head, wand in hand. A bright blue shield exposed around the two as Alecto shot off a crucio mixed with what Blodwen hoped wasn't the Imperious Curse. The shield seemed to eat the curses, before spitting them back out, in black, ugly gunks. It hit Alecto on the way out, McGonagall's cry ("Take that!") whipping around the hall.

Harry was duelling Severus Snape, his face hot and bloody, by the time Draco and Blodwen caught up. It was dark and eerily bright against the starless sky, so it was difficult to see them. A fire raged at the bottom of the lawn, the Groundkeeper's Hut burning hot. Someone was screaming, and it took Blodwen a little too long to realise that it was Harry. She shared a look with Draco, and before he could do anything, she raised her wand. Her nephew suck fast, ivy and vines wrapping around his body.

"Hey!" Draco yelled, but Blodwen wasn't listening.

She appeared in front of Snape, her wand whipping, twisting. The ground beneath her seemed to move, as he repelled her spells, hexes smashing off each other, dispelling on impact as they crashed into a fiery mess. Breathing, Blodwen willed her gut, twisting her hand around, so that the air moved. Snape turned away, avoiding the hurricane that would have swept him up and kill him. Something white and red slashed against Blodwen's shield, cutting through it before she could move, and for an instant, she thought it to the killing curse. But that spell was green. Pain erupted across her stomach, and she dropped her wand.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Sectum—"

Snape raised his arm, and the spell dispersed. Harry was suddenly in front of Blodwen, a fiery anger burned through him, to the point that his hair was flickering, sparking, face red. He lifted his wand, eyes shut tight. For a split second, raw panic rose between the two master duellers, and Snape and Blodwen screamed, as something grew around Harry/

BANG!

Harry shot back like a rocket, smashing into Draco with enough force to kill an elephant, and breakthrough Blodwen's enchantment. Blodwen's spun, swearing, as Snape approached the two. For a second, he looked at Blodwen, at the witch who was catching her breath, before turning back to look at Harry. When he spoke, it was enough venom to kill the world.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter?" he hissed. "It was I who invented them — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so — NO!"

Harry dove for his wand, but it zoomed away.

"Kill me then," Harry shouted, red in the face. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward—"

"DON'T—" Snape bellowed, raising his wand, and suddenly the air around was burning, all fiery and cold, as if someone had dipped the world in fire and then snow,"—CALL ME COWARD!"

Blodwen's magic erupted.

Ten golden hands appeared in the gloom, pushing Snape away so that he turned up the grass, his robes speckled with dirt. Form those hands, grew wrists, and then elbows and shoulders. Torsos and legs came too until an entire array of ten headless figures were battling back the Death Eaters. They pushed them back, pushing them away from Hogwarts, away from Blodwen, away from her nephew. They were massive and terrifying and pulsed with magic so frightening it made Harry and Draco stare and shake. Eventually, Snape managed to breakthrough. Almost immediately, he lunged for Draco. One of the golden bodies rushed to the boy, wrapping its long arms around him. As soon as it touched Draco' skin, a head began to grow out of its neck. It was like watching a weird dandelion, that is if the dandelion had hair and a pair of gnashing teeth. For a single second, Severus Snape stared at the golden man, transfixed by the familiar face that stared back. The younger man that had once been Gellert Grindelwald growled, mismatched eyes bright and glowing. Severus Snape took a step back, as Bellatrix's wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and then she was pulling him again, a cackle on her lips.

The Death Eaters disapparated, and a second later, so did the Golden Figures. Blodwen shuddered, and collapsed to her knees, clutching her stomach. 

"Well," Blodwen breathed, looking between her nephews with a passive expression, suddenly noticing that Draco was clutching his arm, which was bleeding profusely. "Wasn't that pleasant. Henry why don't you help that Half-Giant over there, while I take your cousin to the infirmary."

Harry nodded and pelted towards the half-giant who'd just come stumbling out of his burning house, a mangy dog in his arms.

"Hagrid!" He bellowed, "Hagrid!"

Turning away from her great-great-nephew, Blodwen set her eyes on Draco. His left sleeve was still rolled up, his Dark Mark burning, the edges around a bright, angry red. It moved with a sickening perfection, that as Blodwen carefully helped Draco up, she silently slid his sleeve over his arm. He stared a look with this aunt, face pale. She'd deal with that and him later.

Carefully she stumbled up the hill, half-carrying-half-dragging Draco as tightly as she could. She supposed she must have looked like a dreadful sight, covered in drying blood, holding the son of a known Death Eater in her arms if her life depended on it. She supposed a part of her did, for her blood sensed that they shared blood, just as it had known with Harry. These were her siblings' children. The closest thing she had left of Eudora. Her kin. 

Eventually, she made it to the Entrance Hall, to the castle's front, where she dragged Draco through the doors. Carefully she lay him on a bench, and after checking that was still breathing, sprinted out the door. She ran down the corridors, familiar passageways revealing themselves to her until she made it to the area beneath the Astronomy Tower. Blodwen stopped short, her eyes widening at the hundreds of school children who surrounded their Headmaster, tears on their lips and snot running down. However, it was the wands and the bright lights that erupted from them that made Blodwen's heard pause. Over a hundred voices began to murmur as she walked forward, her heels tip-tapping. A hand landed on her shoulder as she approached Albus' body, and Blodwen looked up, to see Professor McGonagall, her face aflame with a fierce expression. Shrugging her off, Blodwen walked passed Slughorn, who froze up, his eyes following his old teacher with a terrifying fear.

Albus' face was pale, his eyes closed. It was odd, she supposed, for the last time she'd spoken adequately with the man, was when he had red hair that curled around his shoulders. Then, he'd loved a man who he was unable ever truly to love, and was still mourning the death of this family. A part of Blodwen supposed that he'd never stopped loving Gellert and Ariana. Eventually, Blodwen knelt, pressing a soft, tender kiss on her friend's forehead. She shuddered, tears rising as she pressed her forehead, against his.

"You bastard," she breathed, too quiet for anyone to hear, "you just had to go die on me — what's Gel going to say when he finds out?"

She drew back a small, sad smile on her lips.

"But at least you're with Ari now," her voice grew louder as she continued, and the muttering increased, "I guess Nora can hex you after all now."

A quiet laugh left her lips before it turned into a sob, a quite ugly thing that made her heard a gasp.

"Oh hell,"

"Professor Trevorrow?"

Blodwen jumped, her head snapping up so sharply that she pulled something. Slughorn knelt in front of her, wide eyes, almost a hundred years older than the little boy she'd last met. It was odd, Blodwen supposed, to see a student who she'd never taught but had seen a hundred times. Gone was the rosy checked Slytherin who's walked through her house with a timid slyness that didn't come out until after Blodwen's death. Now, stood a man, with a disturbing habit for collecting people.

"Master Slughorn," Blodwen responded, smiling at her old pupil. "You're the second student of mine I've met today — I hope I don't have to blow you up too?"

Slughorn's eyes traced the blood that stained Blodwen's skin.

"No," he said, smiling softly, "you don't."

"Good," Blodwen hissed. "I need one person to know who I am at least — all my friends are dead."

Her eyes settled back on Albus, and she suddenly remembered Gellert's smiling, wild-like face.

"Well, most of them."

The crowd murmured again as Harry approached, Draco stumbling behind. Draco looked uncomfortable and weary as if waiting for someone to come out and grab him, while Harry seemed downright furious. He was clutching a locket, holding it deathly tight so that it almost bend. He knelt next to Blodwen, silently resting his head on her shoulder, gripping her waist with a child-like hunger. Blodwen looked at Draco, indicating him to come over, and together the two teenagers hugged their Great-Great Aunt. Darkness crowded around Blodwen, and she lay down, her breath deathly quiet. She smiled to herself, almost chuckling as her nephews lay down too, beside Albus, beside the place where she had died nearly a hundred years ago. So Death was back; how lovely.

When Blodwen finally passed out, her eyes were gold and pulsing.

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**Dear Readers,**

**I apologise for this chapter taking so long to upload. Unfortunately, I was halfway through writing it when my laptop decided to delete all the writing I had just done. It was safe to say, I was incredibly annoyed at myself for not saving my work. Alas, it is a mistake I know too well. So I had to rewrite - again. Hense why this is a lot shorter than the previous chapter — I lost most of it, and then couldn't remember what I wrote.**

**Anyway, hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter, and probably, the next one will be out soon, and please remember to review, as it helps me awfully. I wish you all a fantastic day/morning/afternoon/night wherever you are!**

**I have looked over this chapter, and fixed the grammatical errors that occurred due to my very sleep deprived brain.** **Thank you to KyrandianaHunter, for pointing this out.**

**From,**

**Lily.**


	3. Well. It's Been A Long One.

13th of April, 2020

Dear my wonderful, amazing readers,

I suspect some of you were waiting for an update like this. I certainly knew that at some point I would be writing this letter with not only a heavy heart but an understanding that I am irritating the ever-living hell out of some of you. There are hundreds, if not thousands of accounts who all say the same thing, so to those who have stayed with me from the beginning:

I’m sorry. So gods-damn sorry.

Over the past year, my life has shifted, I find that I am more drawn to my own novels and the desaturate attempt to finish any of these fanfics are ever so thin. I will admit, there are some fanfictions are in the works, some which I have poured my heart and soul into. Whether or not they ever get uploaded is another thing entirely.

I understand that due to the popularity of “Death’s Hand,” and other stories, I feel utterly ashamed to be closing it down. However, due to personal health, several time conflicts, and a collection of wonderful learning disabilities, it suddenly became impossibly to upload. Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and in most cases, things where abandoned.

I am also a history buff, in all sense of the word. I love studying and researching and falling into endless holes that rip apart the victorian-made construct that our modern society has firmly held over history, just because people told me I could not. I can tell you endless tales of women defending castles and keeps in Medieval Europe. I can tell you how a pair of bodies, stays and corsets were not the devils we are all told. I can tell you how the Pyramids of Giza are one), not as impressive as the Pyramid of Djoser, and second) not made by slaves and were, in fact, most likely constructed by farmers.

However, while I am indeed enslaved to archaeology and history, I am also a perfectionist. Research is my lifeblood, and I guess that’s just the Slytherin inside of me. I want to be perfect in everything I do, have the right facts, and be over critical. This certainly comes through in my writing. I can barely look at all the stories I wrote years ago without cringing. Not just because of the history, but because of the writing.

This is another reason why I am stopping.

I began fanfiction at a time when I was in desperate need of it. At a time, I was so emotionally distraught and mentally tortured, that one wrong move, would have me throwing myself off the nearest cliff. It was not very pleasant. Those years were chaotic, nasty and mad, and yet, fanfiction I found. There will always be a special place for me for these sites, a place where nerds can come together and imagine. Or instead, that is why I was here: so we, the reader, can expand the world-building.

It is here where I leave you, where I take a step back, and after close to over fifteen years, close down all my stories and accounts. I have loved every bloody second of it, the bad and the good, the terrible comments and the amazing, and the massive swell of support that has risen as my wiring has hopefully improved. Whether it was with my first account or this final one, I will never forget that this site, and it’s readers saved a muddled teenager from throwing herself off Ben-Nevis.

With that rather dark turn, I give you to the end of the month to read. I give you until the 30th of April, 2020. Then everything will be gone.

Thank you. I wish you all a careful isolation.

Yours truthfully, and finally,

Lily Carmen Black


	4. Hi, again

**25th of April, 2020**

Dear my wonderful, amazing readers, 

It has roughly been a week, or thereabout since I announced my departure on Fanfiction, ArchiveOfOurOwn, and Wattpad. In those seven days (*cough cough*, twelve days, Lily, TWELVE DAYS), many of you have left lovely messages of good luck and support. Others have asked me to keep on writing, some have wanted me to keep things up, and a few of you are asking to take over the stories. After some thinking and a long moral talk with myself, I will leave an updated version of my resignation letter. 

  1. After staring into my mirror, asking a couple of friends, and reaching deep into my Slytherin-ness (is that even a word?) I have decided, that my resignation might just have been a bit too hasty. So I will keep going. 
  2. You may write your own version of Death’s Hand, (or any other versions of my stories for that matter). However, you cannot copy and paste. These, while they are fan fictions, are my brain-children. I put a lot of time and effort into these stories. However, if you do write your own versions, please link them to me, so I can read them. 
  3. The adoption of any of my stories is not happening. I’m not a fan of it. Sorry.
  4. I will be returning. However, Not All Slytherins Are Death Eaters, Soldier, and Proctor will be cancelled. They will never return. 
  5. The following stories will be rewritten: Death’s Hand, Frankenstein and Trevorrow. 
  6. I have new stories in the works. However, I am trying to write the majority of chapters first, so that I can work it all out, and not just upload, and then have nothing for months on end. 
  7. I will be keeping the original copies of these stories up. In the end, too many people enjoy them, (even if I find them all to be cringy) That includes the stories I have cancelled. I cringe in horror, but you guys have been asking. 



Well, I think that’s everything. If I’ve missed anything, please do write a review, or PM me, and I’ll respond as much as I can. I hope this helped. Sorry for scaring you all. 

Stay safe, drink lots of butterbeer, wash your hands, and be careful in isolation.

Lily Carmen Black 

P.S. 

Prepare thyself for hyper-medieval Lord of the Rings stuff. I couldn’t help myself.

P.S. # 2. 

Fanfiction will returns soon.


	5. The Final Message

**25th of May, 2020**

Dear my wonderful, amazing readers,

Thirty days have passed since I wrote those who rather long, and somewhat conflicting letters about what I am going to be doing with these stories and accounts on Fanfiction, ArchiveOfOurOwn, and Wattpad. Since the 10th of May, 2020, I have closed down my Wattpad. I have decided, after flipping back and forth that I will also close down my Fanfiction, and ArchiveOfOurOwn, accounts too.

My reasons are put forth in my **“Well, It’s Been A Long One”** and **“Hi, Again”** letters. These two letters will be removed from every story and instead put up onto the profile, along with this one. My reasons for what you the readers wish to do with my stories still state:

  1. You may write your own version of Death's Hand, (or any other versions of my stories for that matter). However, you cannot copy and paste. These, while they are fan-fictions, are my brain-children. I put a lot of time and effort into these stories. However, if you do write your own versions, please link them to me, so I can read them.
  2. The adoption of any of my stories is not happening. I'm not a fan of it. Sorry.
  3. I will no be returning.
  4. The following stories will be not rewritten: Death's Hand, Frankenstein, Trevorrow, Not All Slytherins Are Death Eaters, Soldier, and Proctor. They will never return.
  5. I will be keeping the original copies of these stories up. In the end, too many people enjoy them, (even if I find them all to be cringe-y). That includes the stories I have cancelled. I cringe in horror, but you guys have been asking.



If there are any new questions you would like to tell me, please PM me.

Thank you,

Lily Carmen Black


End file.
